


Young Lovers

by Fanhag102



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Alternate Universe - Small Town, M/M, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanhag102/pseuds/Fanhag102
Summary: In a perfect world Lance and Keith wouldn't have to hide how they felt about each other (and Lance could leave as many hickeys on Keith as he wanted). But this wasn't a perfect world, it was a small town filled with people with small minds. Hopefully Lance and Keith can find a way to keep their relationship a secret until they graduate.(It might be harder than it seems).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lance is 18 and Keith is a few months shy of 18 in this fic.
> 
> SO... I started writing this in the DEAD of summer, so every time a character remarks about how hot it is, it's because on that day while I was writing this I WAS VERY HOT. 
> 
> This is mostly fluff, with a dappling of angst and of course a smidge of smut. Its not the first Voltron fic I started writing but it is the first one I actually finished and got posted, so I hope everyone enjoys!!

Lance and Keith had been together since the summer before junior year. There was great debate over the “official” date of the beginning of their relationship. Lance claims and will not concede that it was the day they kissed on the roof of Old Man McGee’s woodshed and Lance fell off and nearly broke his arm from shock and, also, a crooked, badly built roof.

Keith claims their relationship didn’t _really_ begin until several long, agonizing, tension-filled and embarrassing weeks later when feelings were shared and tears may or may not have been shed and, also, things even better than kissing happened (and no one fell off a roof).

Pidge would tell anyone who asked that their relationship actually started the day they met, freshman year, when Keith, the only new kid in a class of kids from a small town who had all known each other since infancy, absolutely destroyed everyone at the football tryouts and formed (unbeknownst to him) a rivalry with the kid who had been aiming for quarterback since he was in diapers—Lance.

A rivalry that turned into something else when Keith stopped coming to football practice barely a month into the season, and Lance took it upon himself to find and drag Keith to the practices, despite Pidge’s frequent reminders that with Keith gone, Lance was free to have his quarterback position. Lance claimed he couldn’t stand to see talent wasted, that it wouldn’t prove he was the best if Keith wasn’t there to beat, that he cared more about the team winning than being quarterback himself, all kinds of ridiculous stories to cover up the fact that he secretly liked Keith (a lot) and hated that Keith seemed intent on avoiding interactions with anyone in the school.

It took some time, and some prodding, and some drama and some fights but eventually Keith became an irreplaceable part of Lance’s friend group; and, somewhere between that kiss on the roof and the final, dramatic confession, Keith also found an irreplaceable place in Lance’s heart.

But this story isn’t about freshman year when Lance and Keith first met, and it isn’t about that summer before junior year when they fell in love. This story is about the summer after junior year, a full year (give or take) since Keith and Lance began dating (officially).

It starts in a cornfield.

The thing about the town of Castle Valley is that it didn’t seem like the kind of place you would imagine a lot of cornfields to be. It wasn’t, for instance, in Kansas, or anywhere near the tornado belt, as a matter of fact. It was nestled in a crop of mountains that were only called mountains because there weren’t any real mountains around to show them the proper way to be a mountain—and calling them hills just wouldn’t do. They were the kind of mountains that were formed by streams, creeks, and rivers that ran between them and they were covered in trees, with rare patches of grassy meadows. It was sort of a beautiful little country town, if you liked that sort of thing, and you patently ignored the confederate flags flown in several of the yards of the town folk.

It was, again, not the sort of place you would think to find cornfields (most of all because corn needs ample sunlight and what with all the trees, sunlight could be hard to come by at times) but it was a farming town, and corn was a summer crop, so they grew cornfields.

That’s the thing about corn. It’s resilient.

Another thing about corn is that if it’s a particularly hot day in late July, and if the cornfield you’re in is tall enough, you can bend the stalks so they create a nice little pocket of shade and lie beneath them to try and keep cool. Which was exactly what Lance and Keith were doing (and why the cornfield was relevant in the first place).

“It’s so hooooooooot!” Lance threw up his arms and then let them drop to his sides like wilting branches. “I’m gonna evaporate! That’s how hot it is!”

“I think it was hotter yesterday,” Keith told him, plucking a bit of hay from his boyfriend’s hair.

“Yesterday we still had money to go to the movies, and hang out at Coran’s diner until the sun set. Today we are both broke, Pidge and Allura are doing some nerd project, and Hunk and Shiro are working. And we’re sitting in this cornfield evaporating because of the sun’s death glow.”

“We’re in the shade,” Keith teased and smiled. He’d grown to find Lance’s overreactions cute, even if he sometimes didn’t understand that Lance was mostly joking.

“We should be doing something,” Lance changed topic. “It’s our last summer before we’re seniors and we’re wasting it away lying under some corn. We should be practicing for football season.”

“We tried practicing two days ago and five minutes in you said it was too hot and we went inside to get lemonade and then you spent the rest of the day making me listen to that Beyoncé album.”

“And I don’t regret that. I caught you humming Hold Up in the car yesterday.”

Lance glanced over to make sure Keith was blushing and wasn’t disappointed (though it might have just been a flush from the heat. Keith’s skin was pale and turned red easily). They were lying side by side on a bed of hay and fallen cornstalk leaves. Only the tops of their heads were touching. It was too hot for anything else.

But in that moment Lance (being a healthy and sexually robust 18 year old) decided that it didn’t matter how hot it was; Keith was hotter. He rolled over and propped himself up precariously on his elbow to kiss Keith, first on the corner of his mouth and then after realigning, on his lips.

Keith (being, also, a healthy and sexually robust nearly 18 year old) responded likewise and soon found his hand snaking beneath Lance’s shirt as Lance kissed and nibbled his way to below Keith’s collarbone and placed a mark there. Keith laughed and they kissed again, their heart rates spiking and body temperatures rising without the help of the sun.

Keith pushed himself up and rolled smoothly over so he was straddling Lance’s hips. Lance gave him a lecherous grin and Keith rolled his eyes and smashed Lance’s head into the ground, then he grabbed his collar and smoothly pulled his shirt up over his head. Lance’s playful lecherous grin turned into a soppy romantic one, like the kind of face you make when you think the person you love isn’t looking. Lance made that face all the time, even when Keith was looking. He couldn’t help it. He was pretty sure it was biological because his dad always made that same face at his mom and his granpa made that face at his granma and when he was little Lance always thought he’d grow up to make that face at some pretty girl he’d start dating in high school and then marry as soon as they graduated and settle down to help on the farm, maybe take it over when he got older.

But things didn’t always turn out the way you imagine them when you’re a little kid in a small town, and Lance was okay with that. Honestly, he was just glad he found someone to make that face at, and he was extra glad that when he made that adoring, stupid sappy face at Keith, that Keith stared right back at him smoldering and hot and felt that he was just as lucky to have found Lance.

Lance awkwardly took his shirt off too and was instantly relieved from some of the heat that managed to press through their cave of cornstalks—though he couldn’t help the heat that his own skin was creating, or the shiver than ran down his spine when Keith dragged a hand from his shoulder, across his chest, and to the line of his pants. Lance bucked his hips a bit, always eager, grabbing hold of Keith’s bare waist lightly to keep him in place.

They were, to be frank, much better at sex now than they were a year ago (give or take) when their relationship first began. Back then it was all new and exciting and fast and sloppy and, really, embarrassing to think about, even though at the time it had been the greatest thing either of them had ever experienced in their lives. (Lance once claimed that sports, school, and higher learning would be wasted on him because sex was so incredibly better than all of that and if he and Keith could do it all day, he definitely would) (Pidge would have liked to never have heard that ever in her life and really hoped she never had to hear about Lance and Keith having sex ever again) (As if she were so lucky).

Keith rolled his hips, feeling Lance grow harder and his eyelids flutter closed. There was something relaxing about slowly getting each other off on a hot day, lying beneath the corn canopy. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this—it had been a long summer and a longer school year before and sometimes Keith wondered how they still kept their grades up and still had positions on the football team when it felt like all they did was have sex. Somehow they made it work.

Keith moved his hips again and Lance slowly sat up, unsatisfied by the slow tease Keith was using to toy with him. He flicked open the button on Keith’s jeans and pressed his lips to the mark he’d made earlier on Keith’s chest. Keith sucked in a breath and froze.

Except it wasn’t a “I’m going to stop moving so you can suck me off” kind of freeze or even a “I’m so turned on I can’t move” kind of freeze. It was a deer in headlights, ears twitching back, stop everything because I just heard something freeze.

“What’s—“ Lance started to ask, but Keith slammed a hand over his mouth and then Lance froze too as he ears picked the sound of someone walking through the cornstalks very near to them.

“Who’s in here bending my corn?” a gruff voice called out, and under Keith’s hand Lance paled, his eyes wide with panic. Keith couldn’t stand that expression on Lance’s face. As much as he loved the expression of adoration and content that he could make materialize on Lance’s face was how much he hated to see this terrified, panicked expression.

They stood, grabbed their shirts, looked quickly into each other’s eyes (the kind of split-second look that seems like it lasts a lifetime) and ran in opposite directions.

See, the other thing about the town of Castle Valley is that it was one of those towns that’s small population was trumped only by that small population’s small minded-ness when it came to new ideas and lifestyles. The news that “fag” wasn’t a politically correct insult had not yet reached Castle Valley and, in fact, the very idea of political correctness was only utilized by a very small percentage of the townspeople. There were just some things that “The Lord” didn’t agree with, and, ostensibly, homosexuality was the tip top, crowned jewel of that list.

Lance had been in 8th grade and still remembered when Matt, Pidge’s older brother, was one of the first (and last) kid’s in Castle Valley, _ever_ , to come out as gay. Everyone had known or at least suspected before then, but it was the general assumption that, being a good Christian boy from a good town, he would at least have the sense to keep his sins to himself. But Matt wasn’t like that. He didn’t like to hide anything, and the shock that flooded the town when sweet young football star Matt Holt announced that he was taking a _male_ date (from another town) to his senior prom had sent the entire town into a tailspin. There was outrage in the streets. Adults who Lance had always respected and admired said things out loud that shook Lance (who had always idolized Matt and sometimes wondered what his hair smelled like) to his core.

And it wasn’t all the “fags burn in hell!” and “he’s a dirty cocksucker!” nonsense that really bothered Lance—because the people who said those things were generally people Lance already had a deep-seated loathing for—it was the teachers and shop owners and friendly neighbors who shook their heads sadly and remarked about how it was a waste for such a good kid to veer from the path of righteousness. As if his entire life was over now that he was gay, and that it was very sad indeed that he couldn’t suck it up and pretend a little harder, for his own sake.

And as hard as it was on Lance, it was a thousand times worse for Pidge, who loved her brother more than anything and grew day after day to despise the town and everyone in it. Lance had had to rein in his own anger and fear and hatred to contend with hers. He and Hunk seemed to spend nearly all their time back then just keeping Pidge from getting herself into trouble cursing out some old lady at the grocery store who handed her a pamphlet to give to her brother that described a “nice, relaxing camp for young men who need God’s Love to send them back into the arms of a woman.”

In the end, Matt couldn’t take it anymore and he dropped out of school and left town. He kept in touch with Pidge and his family (who were very accepting and firm in the face of the homophobic masses) occasionally, but Pidge always resented the town for keeping her brother away from her. As soon as she graduated she planned on joining him in the city and, in her words, “never looking back.”

But that was all well and good for Pidge. Her family was rich.

It went like this: there were two types of people who lived in Castle Valley. There were farmers, like Lance’s family, and Hunk’s family, and Keith’s adopted father (who was more like a brother), Shiro. They worked on the farms that were spread out between the mountains and around the streams and creeks, a ways outside of the actual town itself. Then there were the people who worked at the observatory; a very fancy and high tech astronomy building with one of the most advanced telescopes in the country. It had been built only 8 years ago on the top of the highest mountain around, Mount Altea, and nearly everyone who worked there had moved to Castle Valley specifically to work with the telescope, like Pidge’s and Allura’s family. Shiro worked there, too, but that was just because he had the most expansive skillset in town and he could be found helping a different local every day. Keith said he left the house before he woke up and came home past midnight almost every night, but that Shiro never acted like he was tired and he never seemed like he minded all the work (or how little he got paid for it).

If you lived in Castle Valley and you had money it meant you generally lived closer to town. The closer to town you lived the nicer and newer your house was. Pidge’s family lived less than a mile from their high school, at the base of Mount Altea. Allura’s family (including her weird uncle Coran who ran the local diner) were her next door neighbors.

The less money your family had, the farther from town (and closer to the fields) you lived. If you followed a road leading away from town for several miles, around twists and turns, over rickety bridges and crumbly potholes, all the way to the very end, when the road wasn’t even paved anymore but turned into dust and gravel, that was where Lance’s family lived. They had lived there for generations. Most of his family worked on the Green farm. The Green’s lived right where the paved road ended, and it was the Green’s cornfield that Lance and Keith had just nearly been caught in by Mr. Green himself (who was nice enough, and way too old to actually work in the fields himself). Keith lived on the other side of Mr. Green’s cornfield.

Lance threw his shirt over his head as soon as he was far enough away. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. This had been a close call. If Keith hadn’t heard someone coming Mr. Green might have stumbled upon them in the throws of—well, it wouldn’t have been good.

The corn was just barely taller than Lance, and to get bearings on his location he jumped so he could see over it. He saw his house in the distance where he had expected it to be, but he didn’t head that direction. He knew Keith was upset, and he also knew where he could find him.

Lance walked slowly toward the tree line, not even feeling the sunlight burning into his back. He guiltily thought over the situation, wondering once again if it was really worth it.

Most of the time if a kid (or two) didn’t want to come out as gay, their greatest fear was that their family wouldn’t accept them. That they’ll be shunned or thrown out, or their father will look at them with hard anger and their mother with weepy disappointment until it becomes too much and they leave of their own free will.

Lance wasn’t worried about his family disowning him, or treating him differently if he told them he was in love with another male. His family was the kindest, most accepting group of people in all of Castle Valley, if not the entire world. His father never raised his voice and his mother still packed his lunch and slipped donuts in there that she got to take home from work. His parents and his grandparents loved him and every one of his siblings and cousins unconditionally and it woudn’t even cross any of their minds to think a bad thing about Lance if he came out to them.

And Keith’s family, well, all he had was Shiro, and although it had never been openly questioned or discussed, Shiro definitely knew about Lance. Keith was all Shiro had, too, and Shiro was good at noticing things.

No, it wasn’t because of their families that Lance and Keith had agreed to wait until they graduated and gone to college before they told anyone about their relationship—it was because of the town.

They kept it a secret because of people like Mrs. Crenshaw who lived up the street and had taken to adopting cats since her husband died, who would invite you in for a glass of tea or lemonade if she saw you walking past and would smile sweet and nice—until you took the Lord’s name in vain and then she would slap you full across the face.

They kept it secret because their football coach, who was well-intentioned, but had been the high school football coach for years and had lived in Castle Valley even longer and who simply wouldn’t know what to do or how to handle it if two of his star players decided to be gay in their last season, and would probably have a heart attack at the very thought of having to choose whether to allow gays on his team or get rid of his favorite players.

They kept it secret because of the church pastor who knew every single person who lived in Castle Valley, and who always said hi when he would see Lance and Keith around, and ask them how they were, and tell them he would be rooting for another win for the Lions this season; and then on Sunday would go into a sermon about the lures of the Devil, and how he tried to lead men of faith away from the Lord with drugs and alcohol and loose women and, of course, the homosexual lifestyle.

They kept it secret because of their team; half comprised of small-minded, small-town boys who would never undress in front of Lance and Keith again if they knew, and half comprised of bullies, who already disliked Lance and Keith for being the star players and would at least try to get them kicked off the team and at best taunt them with vocal and physical insults that would do nothing but land the two boys in the principle’s office just for defending themselves.

And they kept it secret because of Old Man McGee, who, in his younger years, was most certainly affiliated with the more infamous hate groups in America, and who already hated Lance and his entire family, and hated Keith because he hated Shiro because he was a racist old man who, given the chance, could easily rile up a dangerous group of townsfolk against a couple of fags who lived on his street.

Keith, of course, didn’t have as many reservations about people finding out as Lance did. Keith had always been a bit of a loner anyway and didn’t care much what other people thought. He knew Shiro, his only parental-type figure, would be supportive, and anyone else he knew, he could deal with himself.

It was Lance who had the most to lose if it came out that he, well, _came out_.

His family was already viewed differently because they weren’t white, and they weren’t rich or European, like Allura’s family. They’d lived in Castle Valley for a long time, but there were still those (like Old Man McGee) who didn’t really consider them as part of the town and even wished they would leave. There had been incidents over the years of racism directed at his family, and even at him, but Lance had thick skin and knew how to keep a cool head under pressure. Like Keith, it wasn’t that he gave a damn if anyone knew he was gay; he just didn’t want to cause any more trouble for his family.

And then there were the football scholarships.

Both Lance and Keith were already being considered for scholarships to the biggest state school in the nearest city. This last year of high school and the final season of football would determine whether or not they got the scholarships to go. For Keith, it wasn’t a huge deal. Shiro could pretty much afford to send Keith to college without the scholarships if it came down to it. Lance’s family was another story all together.

They told him, over and over, that they would find a way to send him to school even if he didn’t get the scholarship, but Lance wasn’t an idiot and he paid attention. His parents had already sent his older siblings to college and the tuitions had taken their toll. His brother and sister had both gotten some scholarships of their own, but if Lance got the football scholarship it would be for a full ride and his parents wouldn’t have to worry about it at all. It was _the plan_. It had been the plan since Lance was old enough to understand what a college tuition was, and it was the reason he’d been so intent on getting a position on the football team, and why he worked so hard to win games so he would get recruiter’s attentions.

If he and Keith were outed before their final season, if their relationship meant they were kicked off the team before the recruiters came and decided they wanted them at their school, it could mean that Lance didn’t even go to college, and that he never got to leave the small town and would stay and work with his family on the farm for the rest of his life. It wasn’t the worst fate he could imagine, but the idea of Keith and Pidge and Allura and Hunk all going off to the city without him was more than he could think about.

So it came down to this: they would keep it secret. No one would know, and then nothing would go wrong, and then they would be able to get their scholarships and leave town as beloved football heroes, and once they were at college in the city they would be safe to be themselves, and everything would work out.

Except it was harder keeping it secret than it seemed.

Lance especially hated that he had to hide his feelings for Keith. He wanted to tell every person he met that he was in love, and his boyfriend was smart and gorgeous and never knew anything about current trends and burned easily if he stayed in the sun too long and always shook his head when Lance said something stupid. He wanted to go to the top of Mount Altea, to the roof of the observatory, and scream about how much he loved Keith to the entire Castle Valley. He wanted to introduce Keith to his parents as his boyfriend for once, and be able to hold his hand when they went into town, and to go to the movies and make out in the back of the theater like the horny teenagers they were without fear of being spotted.

Instead they snuck around in cornfields and behind bridges and in barn attics and pretended to just be friends when they went into town or had practice after school or hung out at Lance’s house. It was maddening, and painful, and the stress of almost being caught was enough to send Lance into a tailspin, wishing school was just over already so they could be done hiding and pretending.

That’s the thing about being a teenager—you always feel like things aren’t moving fast enough.

Of course all their friends knew. It would have been impossible to keep it from them, with how close they all were and how obvious Lance and Keith were in the beginning, when they were still trying to sort out their feelings for one another. They probably never would have gotten together if it weren’t for the advice of Allura and Hunk and Pidge (mostly Pidge, who gave surprisingly good, if blunt, advice).

But their friends would rather die than ever leak Lance and Keith’s secret. They still remembered what happened to Matt, too.

Lance was still thinking all of this over when he reached his destination—an old cement bridge over a small creek set back on a road even more gravelly than Lance’s. Barely anyone ever came that way, and even when they did they made enough noise on the bumpy road that Lance and Keith had plenty of warning before they got there.

Keith was already sitting on the side of the bridge, slumped over, his legs dangling over the side facing the water. He heard Lance coming towards him and turned around, expression blank.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Even if he saw us, he probably only thought we ran because we’d bent his cornstalks. He wouldn’t have thought—“

“I’m not worried about that, you idiot,” Lance interrupted, sitting by his side, turned the other way, towards the opposite side of the bridge.

“He wouldn’t have thought we were doing anything like that,” Keith powered on, oblivious, like he was trying to cure some doubt Lance had in his mind that Mr. Green had seen them through the cornstalks and made the connections and was on his way to town to put up flyers as they spoke. Lance knew it hadn’t been as close a call as it felt like it was. Mr. Green was old and he wore thick glasses and still squinted through them to see in the distance.

“He would have thought we were just laying there for some shade,” Keith added.

“With our shirts off,” Lance teased, because he knew Keith was riling himself up for no reason.

“It was hot,” Keith frowned.

“Yup, he definitely wouldn’t have thought we were screwing around. Half undressed, all flushed and you with that splotchy blush you always get, with your pants half undone.” He flicked at Keith’s pants, the top button still unbuttoned and hanging partway open. Keith quickly buttoned them up.

“Don’t worry,” Lance told him, rolling his eyes at the expression on Keith’s face. “He _didn’t_ see any of that. It’s fine.”

“I know,” Keith sighed. He looked into Lance’s face with a lost sort of longing. “I just want…”

Lance cut him off with a kiss this time, a deep and satisfying kiss that left Keith groaning softly when Lance pulled away. He gave Keith a toothy smile until Keith smiled faintly back.

“If anyone would give us away it’s you. You’re lips always turn pink and your hair gets messy,” Keith teased him.

“If my lips are pink it’s because you _bite_ , and if my hair is messy it’s because you always pull it when I’m—“

“Car,” Keith said, nodding towards a dusty cloud down the road. They moved a few more inches apart so it didn’t seem like they were sitting unusually close.

But once the car came a little closer they realized it was their friends. Allura usually drove because her parents had bought her a minivan when she turned 16. Pidge could drive and she had a car too, but her car was smaller and she always complained about her legs reaching the pedals. When they pulled up and stopped on the bridge beside Lance and Keith, Hunk leaned out of the back window and Pidge out of the front. Allura waved from the driver’s seat.

“Thought we’d find you guys here when you weren’t at Lance’s house,” Pidge told them. “We finished our project early.”

“We’re going to the lake,” Hunk explained cheerfully. “You guys wanna come?”

Lance and Keith answered together, which wasn’t that strange, and after a stop at Lance’s house to grab their swim trunks (Keith kept an extra pair at Lance’s house for convenience, because if you weren’t cutting through the cornfield between their houses it was a bit of drive to get to Keith’s place) the group made their way to the lake, one of the few prime water spots in a town that had so many creeks and rivers to swim in they didn’t bother opening a pool.

The lake wasn’t the most popular spot to go swimming in town, especially on the hottest days, because it had less shade than the swimming holes along the river that ran through town. But, the lake did have the added benefit of having a beach, so people who didn’t like to swim could still hang out near the water and have something to do.

It wasn’t very crowded when they got there, but the group waved and said hello to some of their classmates they recognized. There were even a few boys from their football team who invited them to play a small game of touch for fun. Keith and Hunk ended up on the team opposing Lance and the game soon turned highly competitive. It didn’t matter that he was in love with Keith, and Hunk was his best friend, Lance was determined to _take them down_.

The game was really getting intense when Keith took an opportunity to tackle Lance and the two of them landed in an explosion of sand and dirt. They both wound up covered in it. All the other players, and everyone else who was relaxing on the beach and enjoying the game, laughed as Keith tried to shake sand out of his hair.

“You guys gonna lay there all day?” one of the their teammates called to them with a grin.

It was then that Lance became aware of how Keith was still sitting halfway on top of him, so similarly to how they’d been sitting in the cornfield earlier that day, and he clumsily tried to stand and keep his face from showing how turned on he got just being tackled to the ground by his secret boyfriend.

The game was over not long after that and everybody was tired and sweaty and covered in sand. They stripped down to their trunks and everybody rushed into the lake, swirling up the muck on the bottom and trying to splash some of the girls who were just sitting their feet in the water on the edge of the lake. Lance immediately dove and swam straight towards a group of ducks at the far end of the lake, splashing and scattering them into the air with honks of outrage. He launched a fist into the air and crowed with victory.

“Take that, ducks!”

“Aw, what’d the ducks ever do to you, Lance?” Hunk asked, swimming over and staring after the ducks as they landed on a smaller pond in the front of someone’s yard.

“Ducks are notoriously evil,” Lance explained seriously.

“Is this about the time the duck bit you?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow as he and Allura floated over to them. Pidge didn’t like swimming much, but she was engrossed in something on her phone and didn’t seem to mind being left on the shore.

“Oh yeah!” Allura laughed. “I forgot about that! You wouldn’t give him a piece of your bread so he bit you and you screamed so loud that Coran thought you’d found a dead animal on the porch.”

“That’s just _one_ incident, but it proves my point that ducks are evil!”

“Or you could have just given the duck your bread,” Keith shook his head.

“And then let him go on expecting bread from me every time?” Lance exclaimed, splashing around for effect. “No chance! You have to cut that kind of stuff off fast with those devil birds.”

A few of their teammates were swimming around near their group and one of them stared at Keith and then swam up and pushed him in the water, exclaiming excitedly,

“Damn, Keith! You got a _girlfriend_? Who is she?”

Keith’s eyes went wide and Hunk and Allura glanced nervously from him to Lance.

“Wha—what? No, I don’t!” Keith stuttered, alarmed and confused to be so suddenly put on the spot. They’d already had one close call today they didn’t need another.

“Oh yeah? That’s number 17 for you, always so modest! You’ve got a hickey on your chest, man!”

Keith flushed, looking down at the mark Lance had left on him earlier. Lance suddenly felt so stupid for putting that damn kiss mark on Keith’s chest. He usually would have had more sense than that. The heat must have messed with his head, and now Keith was getting the third degree from number 93, a benchwarmer on their football team who always loved a story about a hot girl only because he never had any.

“Oh, yeah,” Keith tried to act cooler than he felt, tried to smile like he had a fun secret and not a dangerous one that could ruin his and Lance’s whole futures. “I do have a girlfriend. I just met her… yesterday.”

“You just met her _yesterday_ and she already gave you a hickey? _Damn_ , you’ve got game! We’ve gotta figure out how to get on 17’s level. Right, 11?”

This particularly teammate, number 93, had picked up their coach’s habit of referring to all the players by their jersey numbers and carried it over even in summer, when they weren’t even technically a team. Lance was 11. Keith was 17.

Hunk (number 49) was the saving grace and quickly distracted number 93 from interrogating Keith about his new horny girlfriend with a discussion of the latest basketball game they’d both watched on tv. Allura glanced anxiously between Lance and Keith and when they all started to migrate back to shore even Pidge could tell something was up.

They’d managed to find a way to make another hot summer day pass and the sun was starting to get low. Most of the other kids had already started packing up their stuff and heading home for dinner.

The group was pretty quiet as they loaded into the car. Keith and Lance were seated side-by-side in the very back of the van. No one said anything until they were driving down a windy deserted road that led from the lake back into town, and then Pidge asked primly,

“So what happened?”

“That kid, number 93,” Allura explained, driving them swiftly around a wide curve in the road, “he saw a hickey on Keith’s chest.”

“You gave him a _hickey_?” Pidge nearly shrieked, blinking judgingly at Keith from behind her glasses. “Are you an _amateur_? Do you _want_ to get caught?”

Lance just dropped his head, fully believing he deserved to be shamed. He felt like nothing was going right today, like he was back in that summer before junior year when he acted like an idiot all the time and never said anything right.

“We almost got caught in Mr. Green’s cornfield. It was a close call,” Keith muttered solemnly, but he took Lance’s hand and squeezed.

“It wasn’t that close!” Lance perked up, trying to defend the both of them. He didn’t need Keith feeling all guilty too. “We’re pretty good at hiding it. It’s not like anyone else knows!”

The silence that greeted him felt like river mud splattered across his face and then dripping down his whole chest.

“I think my dad saw you guys at the observatory the other night,” Pidge admitted, a little hesitantly.

“He didn’t say anything about—you know—but he mentioned seeing you, said you seemed really close…”

She saw the looks on their faces and quickly tried to make it better, adding hastily,

“But you know he won’t tell! Not even mom! After Matt, you know—“

“It’s okay, Pidge,” Keith said, smiling softly. “We know your dad won’t tell.”

There was a long stretch of silence and then Allura blurted sharply, her accent blurring her words all together,

“I-think-Coran-knows-too!”

Lance groaned. Hunk shifted in his seat and muttered low,

“My parents know. They always pick up on that stuff, so it’s probably not because you’re obvious, but they just noticed, probably?”

“Is there anyone who _doesn’t_ know?” Lance had his head between his knees. Keith was rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe his rising stress levels.

“I think you guys just relax too much around us,” Pidge explained. “And when you’re by yourselves.”

“Yeah!” Hunk agreed. “I mean, number 93 definitely didn’t know! It’s not a big deal, Lance.”

Lance groaned again, head still in his hands and between his knees.

“I just hate all this,” he said after a while, voice heavy with frustration and anger. “And it’s all because I want some stupid football scholarship! I hate having to hide! And lie! And pretend I’m not the one who gave you that hickey even though it _was_ me, and I did it because I just wanted to know that you were _mine_!”

“This is my fault,” Keith shook his head. Lance snapped his head up to stare at him in silent outrage and shock.

“I don’t have as much to lose if it gets out that we’re together. I’m making it worse.”

“Are you kidding?” Lance nearly shouted. “If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine because I can’t keep my hands to myself! This summer is the worst! At least if school had already started we wouldn’t be able to see each other as much. Maybe I should take my dad up on the offer to work through the summer…”

“No!” Keith blurted. “Then I’d never see you!”

“It’s better that way. There wouldn’t be so much risk and—and it would only be for a little while, anyway. Summer’s almost over…”

* * *

 

He’d made up his mind. The next day he left early in the morning and went with his dad and his uncle to work on Mr. Green’s farm. He herded and milked cows, swung bales of hay, tilled until his arms ached and he joked that all the work would probably make him better at football. It was four days until he got to see Keith again. He’d walked the whole way across Mr. Green’s cornfield, sunburnt from being out in it since 7 that morning, to get to Keith’s house. They’d only been there for a few minutes before Lance fell asleep. When Shiro got home he found Keith lying with his head on a snoring Lance’s shoulder. Shiro smiled and carried Lance back across the field to his house.

Several more days passed the same way and Lance was just starting to really get the hang of the work, even if he was always tired at the end of the day, and he kept feeling like something was missing. He walked into the kitchen one morning dressed and ready to head out the door, only to find his dad and uncle sitting lazily at the table enjoying breakfast.

“Where you off to?” his dad asked as he scanned the newspaper.

“You guys aren’t ready to go? It’s almost 7?”

His dad and uncle laughed, and his mom smiled at him as she put a batch of rolls in the oven.

“It’s our day off. Go, enjoy one of the last free days of your last high school summer,” his dad told him, waving him towards the door.

Excitement swelled in Lance like a balloon and he raced towards the door. He didn’t even care if he woke Keith up, he just needed to see him, and to kiss him, and to probably apologize for falling asleep and making Shiro carry him home.

He crashed out of the door and nearly tackled Keith to the ground. Luckily, Keith was pretty good at dodging a tackle. Lance barely managed to not fall flat on his face.

“Keith!” he cheered. “What are you doing here?”

“You have today off, don’t you?” Keith asked skeptically. Lance nodded and Keith brightened, glad that he wouldn’t have to go another day without seeing Lance. “I thought we could meet up with the gang at Coran’s and hang—“

“Maybe later,” Lance shook his head, glanced around, and grabbed Keith’s hand, dragging him off away from his house. “I have a better idea.”

Keith could have guessed what that idea was, and he smiled to himself.

See, Lance had an interesting relationship with racist Old Man McGee. The only kind of relationship that you can have with a crotchety old baby boomer who goes around complaining that the “Mexicans were stealing all the jobs!” while covertly glaring at someone from Lance’s family (which was ridiculous in the least because Lance’s family wasn’t even _from_ Mexico) was an interesting one. It mostly consisted of Lance doing everything in his power to annoy and secretly harass Old Man McGee so that he worked himself into a rage and tried calling the cops, who all loved Lance, because he was a star of the football team, and who thought Old Man McGee had a few screws loose. It was one of Lance’s favorite past times.

He’d let McGee’s chickens loose in his yard 5 times, had gotten Hunk and Allura to help him move an enormous dresser in front of McGee’s front door so he was trapped inside his house, he and Pidge made frequent prank calls to his house and rolled on Pidge’s bedroom floor laughing as Old Man McGee grew increasingly more agitated answering the phone. He tried to steal Old Man McGee’s car, once, but he was pretty sure the crazy old man locked his keys in a safe because he never could find them. He’d had years and years of annoying Old Man McGee under his belt and if he were being honest, he would sort of miss messing with the grumpy, bigoted old man when he was away at college—only a little. It wasn’t like they didn’t have telephones in the city.

The point was, one of Lance and Keith’s favorite sex-spots was Old Man McGee’s barn, up in the hayloft, a spot that you could only get to by climbing up a ladder. McGee would never catch them up there for several reasons. One: he couldn’t climb the ladder himself because his joints were too creaky and his back was out, and two: they always had plenty of warning if Old Man McGee was coming out to the barn, because he had this scrappy, nasty little dog who was always right on his heels, who barked. Constantly. The dog was the perfect alarm system to let them know it was time to leave, and even if McGee saw them running back into the fields behind his barn, he always just thought they were trespassing to vandalize his property instead of doing what they were actually doing.

The nice thing about the barn was that it was old and the locks didn’t work, and once you were up in the loft part it was dusky and cozy, even on the brightest, hottest days. They’d left a pile of blankets up there over the many times they used it, because they knew no one else would go up there and find them. As soon as Keith climbed up the last step of the ladder, Lance pulled him close, letting both of them fall back onto the blanket pile as he kissed Keith to make up for all the times that week he’d wanted to kiss him but couldn’t.

Things got heated quickly. Neither of them could stand to wait another minute to touch each other. Lance hurriedly found the spot where his last hickey had faded and tediously made a new one, and then for good measure another higher up on Keith’s collarbone. Keith laughed and pulled Lance up so he could kiss his lips, bite and nibble on them until they turned pink.

“I missed you,” he murmured against Lance’s cheek, and pressed their foreheads together. He felt stupid for saying it. It had only been a week, after all.

“I kept thinking it wasn’t worth it,” Lance told him, “but then I thought about what next summer could be like. We could go to the beach! We could get everyone in on a beach house and stay there all summer! I was already doing some research, and I think they have some cheap ones and—“

Keith kissed him soft and slow, lovingly, because he was in love. He loved how enthusiastic Lance was, and how he was already thinking of their futures together once they were out of this small town.

Lance let Keith’s kisses drug him into a goofy, horny stupor. He could admit that Keith was the better kisser (though maybe he was biased) because Keith always gave his all kissing Lance. He pressed his body up as close as he could, hands grasping at Lance’s arms or his chest or the rim of his jeans. He made little pleased or desperate sounds that thrilled up and down Lance’s spine like electric shocks.

Keith made one of those eager, desperate noises in the back of his throat as he nuzzled his nose against Lance’s cheek between bruising kisses and Lance groaned low.

“Wooo…oow,” he sighed thickly, voice wavering. Keith looked at him with big, dark eyes: wanting.

“I have…” Keith started, and pulled a small packet of lube and a few condoms from his pocket, face flushed. Lance blinked, pleased but a little surprised.

They didn’t go ‘all the way’ very often. They almost never did it during football season because neither of them wanted to have a sore ass during practice, and even though it was summer it felt like it had been a while since they felt like dealing with anything messier than hand and blowjobs. The idea of actually fucking Keith got Lance fully excited almost instantly.

“Really?” he questioned, just to make sure it was really what Keith wanted. Keith nodded, eyes serious.

“We’ve got all day,” he explained, and leaned down to kiss Lance again, stripping off Lance’s shirt as Lance laughed and pulled back from the kiss to reply,

“I think you’re overestimating my stamina, but I’ll try my best.”

Keith kissed him once more, a lingering, aching kind of kiss, and then gave Lance the lube and condoms to hold while he stripped bare. What little sunlight filtered through the cracks in the old barn’s roof was golden and illuminated flecks of dust that swirled around them. Keith could feel Lance’s eyes on him and knew if he dared to look Lance would be wearing _that_ expression again.

Instead he closed his eyes as Lance leaned towards him and began trailing his fingers along Keith’s bare skin, leaving more marks as he went, his hand just resting gently on the dip of Keith’s back. Keith was already hard, had been since the first bruising kiss, and when Lance wrapped his lips around the tip of his dick he had to cover his mouth to keep from shouting out. His other hand grabbed tight to Lance’s hair as Lance sucked him deeper and rode his tongue along the bottom of Keith’s cock. Keith shook his hips and Lance held onto them firmly, gently spreading Keith’s thighs apart.

Lance’s fingers were already slick with lube when he pressed one to Keith’s entrance. It was cold, but there was joke between then that lube was always cold. Lance had accused Keith of putting an ice cube in him the first time Keith had fucked him, but that was probably just because Lance had been nervous and expressed his nerves by babbling through the whole thing.

It wasn’t as thought Keith was quieter than Lance when they were having sex, because he wasn’t, it was just that the sounds he made weren’t really words, whereas the words Lance said when Keith was fucking him were just words that came spilling out of Lance’s mouth and had no meaning. Keith could probably communicate better with groans and gasps than Lance could with the gibberish he spewed when Keith’s cock was inside him.

Lance’s mouth popped off of Keith’s dick and he sat up straight. The hand that was clasped in his hair loosened its grip and Keith draped his arms over Lance’s shoulders to keep his balance as Lance pressed the tip of a second finger inside him.

“Can you spread your legs wider,” Lance said, framed as a question but stated as a request. Keith moved his knees farther apart and sunk lower onto Lance’s fingers. Lance spread Keith’s cheeks wider with his thumb as he worked to stretch Keith open so he wouldn’t hurt as bad.

“Relax,” he teased, brushing his lips against Keith’s nipple. “You’re too tight.”

“It’s been a while!” Keith argued, but he tried to relax a little more, even though all he could think about was how turned on he was and how good it felt to have Lance inside him, and how much better it would feel once he was loose enough to _really_ have Lance inside him. He was too excited to relax, but he tried. He arched his back and bit his lip. One of his shoulders felt warm, like there was a beam of light shining on it, and when he looked he saw that there was. It was then that he noticed that Lance had stopped moving his fingers any deeper. In fact, Lance had stopped moving at all.

Keith frowned momentarily when he saw that Lance had his eyes closed, and was holding his face with a look of intense concentration. After a moment Lance exhaled (he’d been holding his breath), and gazed guiltily at Keith, a crooked smile on his face.

“It’s been a while for me, too,” Lance admitted sheepishly. Even if Keith understood, it was still embarrassing how close he’d been losing his cool the moment before. He’d had to think quickly about Old Man McGee’s crotch in his waist-high jeans held four inches above his navel by thousand-year-old suspenders before he could calm his body down enough to even look at Keith again. He was too sexy for his own good, especially when he arched his back like that.

Lance barely pressed his fingers back in deeper and Keith gasped, breathless,

“ _I’m ready!”_

Lance didn’t need telling twice. He was ready too (obviously), and he quickly slicked his cock with more lube and felt his cock twitch in his hand, like it knew it was about to get a treat. (Lance had a bad habit of talking to his dick, especially if he was masturbating, and the first time he’d accidentally done it around Keith, Keith had laughed so hard he brought himself to tears). (Lance mostly spoke to his dick in his head after that). He gave it a silent little pep talk about not blowing it too soon as Keith adjusted his position to something more comfortable, resting more on his calves than his knees, and then lowering himself over Lance as he moved his ass closer to Lance’s cock.

Lance helped him line up right, reaching down and pulling apart Keith’s cheeks, fingers gripping tightly and making Keith moan just as the tip pressed against his already sensitive hole. Lance struggled to keep his hips steady when all he wanted to do was press up and into Keith, and hold tight to his hips, bringing them down hard onto his cock.

But they had been together for a while, and Lance could tell when Keith wanted to take things slow and be in control—which worked out nicely for Lance, because when Keith wanted to be in control of something he got this blazing, defiant look on his face and even the tone of his voice shifted to something commanding and powerful and if Lance was being honest, there was nothing in the world that turned him on more.

Lance groaned low and let his head fall back when Keith swallowed the rest of his cock slow and deep, and then dragged himself off of it and down again. After a while Lance got a hang of the rhythm, and knew just how to shift his hips to make it feel incredible for both of them. His fingers never left Keith’s ass cheeks, keeping them spread apart and probably bruised with an imprint of Lance’s hand the next day.

Keith slowed down just a little and Lance let one of his fingers rest just against Keith’s entrance, sending sensations through both of them when his finger dragged along his cock with every motion. (He’d started reciting pi in his head to stop from coming, even though he knew Keith was close too, judging by how much he was leaking from the tip of his cock as it bobbed with every thrust).

And then suddenly he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. There was a sheen of sweat on Keith’s skin and in the sunlight he glowed, and he was making those terrible noises that Lance heard in all his favorite dreams (the kind of noises that he filed away in the spank bank and said, ‘save for later’) and Lance used both hands to stop Keith from lifting off of his cock because he liked to be deep inside when he came. Keith whimpered like he could feel Lance’s cock pulsing as he rode through his orgasm and heard Lance mutter his name through clenched teeth, and then exhale heavily and loosen his grip on Keith’s waist, fingers twitching against Keith’s soft skin.

Keith let Lance stay inside him and he began stroking his own cock, so close to the edge he could hardly stand it.

“ _Lance_ ,” he panted, eyelids fluttering closed.

Lance quickly placed his hand over Keith’s stroking his cock and used his other hand to gently rub along the rim of Keith’s hole. Keith shuddered instantly and Lance squeezed as he stroked Keith’s cock, the head of it swollen and ready to burst.

“Come on,” Lance taunted and coaxed all at the same time, voice like honey. “Come on, come.”

Keith made a high noise that rang in the hayloft and in Lance’s ears as he came, covering Lance’s chest. A gasp caught in Lance’s throat as Keith’s hole seized and tightened around his cock. It was almost enough to make him hard again. He’d give it about 45 minutes and they’d probably start another round. They’d make it into town at some point, he was sure, but it would probably be a while.

When his orgasm ebbed off Keith had just enough strength to pull himself off of Lance’s cock. The action made the both of them groan. He slumped beside Lance, practically boneless, breathing hard. They were both covered in a fine layer of sweat and it was only getting hotter in the upper loft of the barn, but neither of them really seemed to mind the heat.

Lance watched Keith breathing silently for a few peaceful moments, thinking about the ups and downs they’d gone through and wondering which one he’d classify this moment as. Sure, it might seem like an ‘up,’ what with the post-coital glow emanating around them, and Keith’s hair falling in his face, and the way his arm rested perfectly against Lance’s waist, tickling his skin. But, on the other hand, it sort of felt like a ‘down,’ the more Lance thought about their situation and the upcoming year of hiding their relationship when all he wanted to do was celebrate it. He sighed deeply, moving Keith’s bangs away from his eyes.

“You’re worth it, you know,” he said. “It doesn’t matter how much hiding and sneaking around we have to do. You’re worth everything.”

Keith’s gaze was warm, but he still made a point of looking away and pursing his lips to reply,

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think I can do better.”

Lance took the dig with grace and when he kissed Keith he nipped playfully at his already swollen lips, pinching the skin at Keith’s jaw as payback. Keith smiled into his kisses and they were off again, cooped up in their own little slice of heaven in the hayloft.

* * *

 

The rest of summer passed in a blur. Keith wound up getting a job, too, helping Shiro at the observatory. He and Lance wondered why they hadn’t thought about having summer jobs before then—it wasn’t like they couldn’t use the money—but they figured it was pretty hard to think about much else when you’re laying comfortably with your significant other under cornstalks. Any extra cash they didn’t need for movies and snacks at Coran’s diner went into a jar beside Keith’s bed that had “apartment fund” written on it. The rest of the gang was saving up, too. Technically they would have to stay on campus their first few years of college, but Allura was already working on figuring a way out of that and Pidge had a tab open on her laptop of apartments in the city big enough for five people.

Before they knew it school was starting back up, and then football practice, and then Halloween and thanksgiving break. The school year passed mostly uneventful, at least where Keith and Lance were concerned. Allura graduated early, and Pidge finally told her parents she didn’t want to be called “Katie” anymore, and Hunk even got a girlfriend.

If hurt just as much as they thought it would, continuing to keep their relationship a secret from the small minds of the town, but somehow Keith and Lance made it through. They only almost got caught only _one_ time, in the locker room after a game—mid-BJ.

But, in Lance’s defense (his words), he “gets really horny after a game, especially if they win, and it’s been so long, Keith, come on, no one’s gonna come in!”

Luckily it was their coach, who was just gullible enough to buy that they were only showering before the after-game team meet-up at his house, and he didn’t seem to notice their boners. (Or if he did, he was very good at hiding it).

Their last semester of high school was over before they realized it, especially once they’d both gotten their acceptance letters for State and didn’t have to worry as much about what they would do if they hadn’t gotten in together.

It was the last day of school, and seniors got out early because the teachers knew there was no point keeping them when they weren’t going to pay any attention anyway. Keith was waiting outside the main building for Lance to meet him. He’d given Keith some mysterious message earlier that day about a surprise he had for him and Keith was anxious to know what it was. Finally he spotted Lance exiting the gym with Pidge and Hunk. He waved and Lance’s smile lit up his face when he saw Keith. He jogged to reach him and slid his hand into Keith’s, curling his fingers between Keith’s tightly. Keith blinked in surprise, eyeing Lance strangely. He was never that affectionate anywhere around the school.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked.

“We’re _freshman_!”

“No,” Keith told him slowly. “We’re _seniors_.”

“Not anymore, babe! We are college freshman now! We finally made it out!”

Keith smiled.

“What was this surprise you had to show me?”

“Oh!” Lance exclaimed, stopping abruptly. “I almost forgot!”

He explained to Pidge and Hunk that he had something to show Keith as he pulled his boyfriend off in the other direction. Their friends rolled their eyes and reminded them they had to come to a celebration at Coran’s that night.

Keith questioned Lance nonstop about where they were going but Lance was like a steel trap (for once), grinning the whole way and shaking his head at Keith’s wrong guesses. But as soon as they turned onto the dusty side road in the other direction from their houses, Keith stopped guessing, because he figured out that they were going to their bridge. He started getting curious, because he didn’t know why Lance would be so intent on taking him there. It wasn’t like he’d never seen it before?

Lance stopped suddenly and Keith nearly stubbed his toe on a rock trying to stop alongside him.

“Wait!” he said, looking at Keith thoughtfully. “Close your eyes!”

“What, really?” Keith asked, only a little annoyed.

“Yes,” Lance declared with a stoic nod of his head.

Keith sighed and did as he was told.

“No peeking,” he warned, and Keith only growled in response as Lance took his hand and started leading him in the direction Keith already knew was towards their bridge. His sense of direction was even good enough to know when they were approaching the bridge and he stopped at the same time Lance did.

“You can open your eyes,” Lance said, squeezing Keith’s hand, and Keith could hear his smile in his voice.

Keith opened his eyes and found himself staring at the side of the concrete bridge where someone had taken spray paint and written:

“11 will always LOVE 17!”

Keith blushed and blinked.

“You like it?” Lance asked, nearly bouncing up and down.

Keith stared at it for a moment longer, feeling some indefinable emotion well up in his chest.

“Won’t someone see it?” he murmured.

Lance squeezed his hand again, folding their fingers together tightly.

“Maybe,” he said. “But who cares? We did it. We made it out. It doesn’t matter if anyone figures it out, right?”

Keith pulled Lance down to kiss him hard, messing his hair and scruffing his collar. Lance smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Keith to hold him tighter. When they broke apart Keith stared at the graffitied declaration of love again.

“I think I might miss this town when we leave,” he said, a little fondly.

Lance shrugged.

“We’ll have to come back and visit.”

The thought made Keith feel better.

“Hey…” Lance said slyly, a glint in his eyes. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Mr. Green’s corn fields have started getting pretty tall already…”

Keith grinned right back, taking off at a run to get a head start, laughing as Lance cursed and ran after him.

The future was looking pretty bright.


End file.
